Open window in mid-December,
wind and light snow blowing in.
Steam radiator hissing.
Seated on her bed in a tee shirt and pajama bottoms.
Comfortable in the cold night.
In command, working the phone.
“Ok, enough. Goodbye”
“Had to shed him” she said,
matter of factly.
Jack shivered slightly,
wondering when it would be his turn in the barrel.
“Don’t worry” she said,
sensing his trepidation.
“A hard-on is not chemistry”, Cynthia said,
Hands on hips.
“Damn it!” he thought.
“So close and she has to get all
“You’re right, baby.” he said apologetically.
“Don’t ‘you’re right baby’, me.”
“I’m driving you home.” she said.
Somehow she hit every green light
on the avenue.
Jack couldn’t catch a break.
Cynthia dreamt what
her imagination asked of her
as she slept in a castle.
Jimmy came to her
and they had a fling.
She got pregnant and had to tell him.
He also had something important to tell her.
Neither would yield until the other
shared their secret.
Violet, Jimmy’s girlfriend
flitted around in the background
while George, Cynthia’s husband
watched them like a hawk.
No one cared, she was writing her next book.
Jack had long ago weaponized his intellect.
Using argument to get the upper hand.
What he was not prepared for was it to be used against him.
“You said you valued the truth. The truth is I’m tired of you.” said Cynthia.
He winced and tried to catch his breath.
A precise armour piercing missile.
Lovely, but not a terribly good kisser.
Bit of a vice grip disappointment, really.
She had other charms.
At the party, she pushed the chocolate cake into his face.
“You’re good for me”, she said.
He drove her car home.
Carried her up three flights to her room.
Tucked her in and sighed.
“I’m all in.”